


Common Ground

by soldierwitch



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldierwitch/pseuds/soldierwitch
Summary: The legacy Alex inherited from his parents runs longer and farther than the Manes branch of his family tree but in Roswell that means nothing. The Maneses have been an institution in the town dating as far back as most can remember. There has always been a Manes in Roswell, and they have always been its protectors. No one was surprised when the eldest Manes boys enlisted, following in their father’s footsteps, but when Alex Manes arrived at the enlistment office, people talked...But they didn’t know his mother also expected him to enlist. Not for his father but for tradition. See, Sara Manes has a legacy, too, one forged by the service of Comanche soldiers.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Common Ground

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a few months ago, and it's a universe I do want to return to one day. I'm very interested in how Alex's heritage has informed his decisions throughout his life especially in terms of service to his country. So, I ended up writing this for Native American History Month, and I'm still kicking around thoughts about it. So think of this as an aside to a larger story that may or may never come to fruition but that would definitely be a piece centered on Alex's indigenous heritage and how he navigates that as a mixed race man.

The legacy Alex inherited from his parents runs longer and farther than the Manes branch of his family tree but in Roswell that means nothing. The Maneses have been an institution in the town dating as far back as most can remember. There has always been a Manes in Roswell, and they have always been its protectors. No one was surprised when the eldest Manes boys enlisted, following in their father’s footsteps, but when Alex Manes arrived at the enlistment office, people talked. 

He was the most like his mother; he had a gift for song, and a talent for melody. They thought he’d head to L.A. or some other sun-drenched town that calls to musicians. Jesse already had three boys in his image; he didn’t need four. But they didn’t know his mother also expected him to enlist. Not for his father but for tradition. See, Sara Manes has a legacy, too, one forged by the service of Comanche soldiers. Her people hailed from Lawton, Oklahoma, and they had fought in every war in the modern era. Her grandfather was a code talker in World War II using the Comanche language to hide information from the enemy. These were stories Alex had heard infrequently as a child.

His mother didn’t visit Lawton often, and she rarely took her kids with her. She’d said it was because his father didn’t like them to go too far. He worried. About what she wasn’t sure but leaving always began and ended with an argument so eventually she stopped going home, but Alex knew that wasn’t going to last. His mother is a proud woman. There isn’t much she’ll admit to without being forced by circumstance. But he knew she missed her family. When they’d cook together, she’d tell him stories of how she’d sit at her grandmother’s feet listening to her sing songs in a language that was dying generation by generation. Over stewing pots and heating pans, she taught him some of the songs, patiently correcting him as he struggled through words foreign on his tongue but his by birthright. 

It was in the middle of one of these lessons that Sara told Alex she was leaving his father. She gave him a choice. He could stay with his father and his brothers or he could come with her. But it wasn’t a choice for Alex. His mom had let his father raise him as a Manes. He was Comanche in name but he didn’t feel it in his heart. People in Roswell spoke often of the Maneses, of their achievements, and their service to the nation. In Lawton they did the same for his mother’s people, but he didn’t recognize the names and he barely knew the stories. 

Alex always felt like he wasn’t enough there like there were essential parts of him missing that Roswell took and flattened until they were nearly non-existent. And he didn’t want to start over in a place he didn’t know with people who didn’t know him, so he chose to stay. Not for his brothers, who he had never been close with, but for Kyle and Liz and Maria and Rosa. Alex loves his mom, but her home had never felt like his. Years later after three tours and a leg left behind in a war zone, Alex wishes he had made a different decision. His mother never let her expectations get in the way of his choices, and by the time he’d learned that it was too late, he was boarding a plane to Iraq with a letter from her tucked away in his pack.

Sara wrote to him nearly every week. She wrote about the music she was listening to, and the bands she was going to see. As usual, she talked around her work with the FBI but complained about her co-workers. _Doesn’t matter if they’re agents in the field or soldiers on the front lines, men are assholes no matter where they go. Don’t choose an asshole, Alex._ And in turn he’d talk around his missions and complained about his teammates. He’d write to her about the music he was listening to and the musicians that came to the base.

Alex learned more about his mother in those letters than he did living in a house with her and eating meals across from his silent father and his distant and angry brothers. And sometimes she’d write about their family that had served. Who they were, what they did, and how proud the Comanche were of them. By the time he headed back to Roswell for his last duty station, Alex knew more about his mother’s family and what they achieved than he did about the Maneses, and it's Sara that convinces him to join the Comanche Indian Veterans Association. 

“You need people, Alex,” she says over a static filled line one warm July night. “Your people.” Her service is spotty and his isn’t any better in Jim Valenti’s cabin, but it’s been a while since he’d heard his mother’s voice, and he isn’t ready to let her go just yet.

“Come to Lawton. Your cousins just returned from a tour of their own. Jodi won’t stop talking my ear off about wanting to see Ace. They heard you got medaled again, you know. They’d love to see you.”

“Mom, I haven’t been Ace since I was ten years old and missing a tooth,” he says, taking a swig of his beer. “And from what I remember, Jodi was a better shot than I was with Uncle Joe’s BB gun.”

“He calls you that for more than your shooting, Alex. He loves you.”

“He doesn’t know me.”

The line goes silent. Alex silently curses himself and puts his beer down. “Mom–”

“No,” she says cutting him off. “You’re right. He doesn’t, and that’s my fault. I should have never listened to your father. You are more than a Manes. Lawton is yours just as much as it is mine. As is this land you protect. Our claim is stronger than his. We have been here longer than the Manes line has existed, and we will be here when it ends. There is no place you don’t belong, okay? No place.”

Alex takes a moment and then makes a decision that’s been weighing on his mind. “If I joined CIVA, how upset do you think dad’s going to be?”

Sara laughs, surprised and delighted. “About as upset as when you signed up for Officer Training School and passed with flying colors.”

When she sobers, Sara also says, “But remember, Alex, your life shouldn’t be about erasing your father’s footsteps. It should be about making your own. Join CIVA because you want to. Because you want to learn about your history and be a part of a larger community. Not because you want to piss Jesse off.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Sara snorts. “Just because you said it politely doesn’t mean I didn’t pick up on that dismissal, son. I’m right. Now, when are you coming to see me? I’m not getting any younger, and I know you have leave saved up.”

Alex laughs. “Soon, Mom. I swear.”

“On your favorite band?”

“On my favorite band.”

“Then it’s settled,” Sara says. “What’s not settled is this racket you sent me? Alex, what do you have me poisoning my ears with?”

Alex launches into a defense of the new experimental band he discovered and spends the next hour planning out a weekend trip to go see his mom.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated.


End file.
